


Hard Road Ahead

by fishingboatblues



Series: Stancest Week 2017 [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Incest, M/M, Stancest Week 2017, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9540434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishingboatblues/pseuds/fishingboatblues
Summary: My piece for Stancest Week, Day 2: Adult Stans.





	

Stan stares at the book in his hand, it feels heavy, like an anchor weighing him down until he sinks to the bottom of the ocean. He can feel himself drowning, can feel himself struggling to breath and it isn’t the pain and adrenaline running through his system that makes his chest tighten.

He’s been trying for months to get the machine working, to get the portal to start but set back after set back has gotten in his way and never has he felt more helpless and stupid in his entire life than he has done in reading the eloquence of Ford’s words written in cursive in front of him. They all look like gibberish to him, like some ancient language or something; he just can’t make heads or tails of it.

The machine sparks and fizzes when he tries to activate it, filling the room with smoke and his heart with disappointment and fear. Nothing works, nothing even happens, but isn’t that just hilarious? That word; _nothing_ , it’s what he’s been his whole life, it’s what he still is now and it’s the exact amount of progress that he’s made in rescuing his brother. It’s what he’d been to Ford when he’d show up at his door ready to reconcile only to have his hopes dashed.

Just thinking about how terrible their reunion had gone makes the pain in his shoulder flare up, has him clutching his almost healed scar with gritted teeth. He hisses to himself and bangs his hands against the desk.

“Goddammit!” He shouts. “I-I can’t, _fuck_ , I can’t fuckin’ do this.” Stan tells himself as his body shakes from lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of a _lot_ of things really. His only priority for months has been the Murder Hut and the portal, so it isn’t exactly surprising that his body isn’t exactly cooperating with him.

He can feel his eyes tearing up and sweat dripping down his forehead, he can’t do this; he knows he can’t but he _has to_ , he can’t leave his brother behind and there’s no way in hell he’s going to turn his back on him either.

He just got Ford back as brief and as troubling as that reunion had been. He loves his brother, loves him more than he should and needs him like the air that he breathes, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he walked away, shut the metaphorical curtains and left his brother behind.

Stan gulps and looks up at the portal, grief and sadness making a home in his chests as he presses his hand against the gold cover of the journal thrown into his hands by a brother whose terrified voice had called for his help. As he does so he imagines Ford’s hand holding his own, he imagines Ford being here with him now, but more importantly and more strikingly he remembers their past.

He remembers the days before everything fell apart, he remembers kissing on the beach and holding hands on the swing. Fuck, he remembers heated sessions in the back of his car, he remembers soft, beautiful hands threading through his hair and pulling him down for kisses that stole his breath and any sense of decency left within him.

He places the journal down, rolls up his sleeves and gets ready to work. His love for his brother, his feelings for him are far more important than stupid things like self-doubt or his lack of understanding of physics and shit. He has a lot of work ahead of him, he knows that but there’s nothing that can stop him from rescuing his twin, he’d rather die from exhaustion, from overworking himself than leave his brother behind.

He’s got a hard road ahead of him, a difficult and uncertain future before him but he would do anything for the promise of seeing his brother again, anything for the promise of the love of his life coming back safe and sound. This is his fault after all and Stanley is nothing if not committed to his brother, nothing if not loyal to him and if that means rebuilding a trans-dimensional portal without even a high school diploma to his name then so be it. Besides this may be hard, but harder still is the idea of never seeing him again, never holding him and never telling him that he still loves him even now, even after ten years.

All Stan has to do is wait, heck he’d spend his whole life on rescuing Ford even if there was no hope of his brother ever returning to him. He yawns, rubs at his tired watery eyes, opens the pages of the journal and gets to work; it’s not like the portal is going to fix itself.


End file.
